


Volvamos a la Medianoche

by Theoroark



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Character Study, Death, Families of Choice, Flashbacks, Gen, Jewish Sombra, Medical Trauma, Panadería las Nieblas, Team Talon (Overwatch), Team as Family, War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-17
Updated: 2018-01-17
Packaged: 2019-03-06 02:27:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,988
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13401501
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Theoroark/pseuds/Theoroark
Summary: Prompt:Slow DeathIt comes back to Sombra in inches.





	Volvamos a la Medianoche

**Author's Note:**

> I named Alejandra's mom Patricia in an earlier fic, and I realize I've been using it for her without explanation since. So, when Sombra talks about Patricia, that's Alejandra Sr.

 It comes back to Sombra in inches. 

 

First, at the Nieveses. She's ten years old and loitering in the bakery and Patricia is complaining to her grandmother about her chores. "Can't Olivia do the sweeping?" she asks. 

 

"No," Grandma Nieves replies. "Olivia's a guest. Guests don't do work."

 

Patricia glares at her over her grandmother's shoulder and she smiles back smugly. "She's here all the time," Patricia says. "She's more than a guest."

 

Grandma Nieves tuts at her granddaughter and shakes her head. She mimics the gestures silently, causing Patricia to glower all the more furiously. "That may be so," Grandma Nieves says. "But we told her when she came here that we would keep her safe and happy. And we keep our word in this house, Patricia."

 

_"Promise me you'll keep running, Olivia." Her mother was gripping her hands tightly. She could hear the sound of screeching metal but it was dark and it was loud so she didn't know where it was. The only thing she knew for sure was that her mother was right in front of her, holding her hands. "Promise me. Don't stop running, no matter what. Can you give me your word?"_

 

_"Yes, mommy," she said. Her mother let go of her and light streamed in and she ran._

 

She's been silent for a while, she realizes. Patricia isn't angry anymore, just worried, and Grandma Nieves looks downright stricken. She pushes up and away from the table. 

 

"I uh, have an appointment across town," she says. It's an excuse she's heard work before but it's too big to roll off her tongue and just makes them look more concerned. "I gotta go," she says.

 

"Sweetheart–"

 

"Olivia–"

 

She's almost sprinting out the door and pretends she didn't hear them. She wanders around, finds some Muertos to tease and tends to some scams she's running. The next day, she comes back like nothing happened. She helps Patricia make the pretzels. 

 

"You don't have to do this," Patricia says to her in a low voice. She shrugs. 

 

"It's fine."

 

"Look, I want to help you–"

 

"Then shut up and work faster, loser. We're going to miss the game at this rate." Patricia wrinkles her nose and throws a little bit of dough at her hair. She dodges and grins and they don't talk about it after that. 

 

It stays away for a while after that. But after the security breach, she gets cyborgization surgery done. She carefully designs all her firewalls and vets the surgeon thoroughly and still, she's paralyzed an hour after she walks out of the operating room. A couple Muertos find her and take her back to the surgeon after they take her wallet. The surgeon sighs and hook her up to an IV and tells her she'll just have to wait this out. So she's stuck there, alone, unable to flip through her holovid or shake her leg to distract herself. And so when it comes back up she can't do anything to push it back down. 

 

_The medic spoke to her mother in a hushed tone but she didn't have to hear to know her father was dead. They had hid the body under a sheet but she remembered the ratta-tat-tat of Bastion fire and all the blood that had been on her, after the sounds of machines had faded and he had lifted himself off of her._

 

_Her mother took her out of the tent but she still heard the voices of the injured._

 

_"We'll be okay, Olivia," her mother whispered. She held her hand tightly._

 

A couple days later, she can bend her arm at the elbow. When she can stand on her own, the surgeon unhooks her. She asks them if she can stay another night, until her systems are more functional. They politely tell her no. She leaves and sits on the edge of her hotel room bed and runs her fingers down her new metal spine and plans for the future. 

 

She had hoped that would be the last time. That when she became Sombra, she would really become Sombra, and leave all the unpleasant parts of Olivia Colomar's existence in the same void she had dropped her social security number and her iris pattern. But on her first mission, she and Widowmaker go together to assassinate a recalcitrant arms dealer in a small Swiss village. Widow perches herself in the clock tower while Sombra swipes the target's life work in the chaos that follows the shot. She translocates back to the rendezvous point to find Widow leaning up against the alley wall, cleaning her rifle. 

 

_There had never been any guns in her house, but the militia leader gave her mother one. They had all gathered in the plaza– all the folks with guns on the center, everyone else watching at the edge. She and her father were at the edge. Her father's grip on her hand was ironclad._

 

_"Your mother's going to be fine, Olivia," her father said in a low voice. "Some of the bad Omnics are nearby. So we need to take care of them. But we'll take care of them. Don't worry."_

 

_She nodded. Her mother looked up from assembling her rifle and waved. She and her father waved back._

 

"Are you drugged?" Widow asks. Sombra shakes herself out of her daze. Puts on her best smile. Reminds herself that she couldn't afford to lose this job. 

 

"Sorry. It's nothing."

 

"It's not, though," Widow pushes off the wall and saunters towards her until they're toe to toe. Her gold eyes are focused and narrow. "What's wrong with you?"

 

Sombra's smile falters. She's not sure why Widow isn't letting this go. "It's fine," she snaps. "I just got reminded of something."

 

Widow's eyes are just as focused, but there's a change in them. She steps back a little. "Well, don't let it happen again," she says. Then she turns on her heel and heads back to the drop ship. 

 

She tries not to. But it's the worst a couple weeks later, her first Yom Kippur at Talon. 

 

She feels bit silly fasting. It's not like she's penitent. She is a sinner and is planning to sin again. She's sinning right now, sifting through the data Reyes stole from Overwatch as he leans on her desk and tries to figure out who to kill first. 

 

But still. Something about the empty stomach and the anticipation of sundown reminds her of flopping on the Nieves' couch with Patricia, echoing her complaints like Sombra's never known real hunger either. 

 

Reyes leans in further and taps at the screen, despite her grumble of annoyance. She doesn't like anyone smudging her stuff, much less walking corpses who have nails like reclusive billionaires and flake off rotting flesh. "Her," Reyes says. "Can you get me her last known address?"

 

"Ooh, address. I don't know, boss. I mean, I've already gotten you her last five employers and license plate and Tinder profile, but address? That's a toughie." Reyes waits patiently for her to stop. She grins and taps in some commands. "She's in Buenos Aires. 'round Palermo. Street address coming up in a second."

 

"Good." Reyes leans back from her desk and sets his hands in his lap, mercifully. His mask is off and she can see that his sunken eyes are fixed on her screens. "Sofía wasn't Blackwatch, but she did a lot of intelligence work. I don't want her sticking her nose where it doesn't belong."

 

Sombra nods, should be saying something about how she knows this already, she's been working this case for weeks and probably knows these people better than Reyes does, and he worked with the idiots. But Sofía, Sofía...

 

_"I'm not leaving Dorado, Sofía," her father had said. Her aunt rolled her eyes._

 

_"You're so stubborn. I heard they took out the whole power grid in Chiapas. There were riots in Tuxtla Gutiérrez within the week. The countryside, they have generators and farms at least."_

 

_"And no hospitals and no police," her father said. Her aunt sighed. "I have a kid, Sofía. I can't take a risk like this."_

 

_"That's why I want you to come with me." He shook his head. Neither of them saw her, right behind the doorframe._

 

_"I know the people here. I trust them. If something happens to us, they'll take care of Olivia."_

 

"Sombra."

 

Reyes is staring at her with those stupid red eyes. She doesn't feel like faking right now and he's never really responded to her smiles and quips anyway, so she just ignores him and scoots her chair closer to her desk and starts working again. 

 

"Sombra."

 

"What?" she says, irritated. He's distracting her from her work. Does he want to be able to kill Sofía or not?

 

"Widow said you got like this before. During the Gais mission."

 

"Did she now."

 

"She said you said it was because you were remembering something."

 

"Hmm."

 

"Do you want to?"

 

She stares at the catalogue of names she's created. "Not really," she says, fully aware of the ridiculousness of it all. She can find out a person's darkest secrets from a defunct workplace ID, but she has no desire to do anything with _Sofía_ or _Colomar_. 

 

Reyes doesn't question it, though. Just nods. "Right," he says. "Well. We can help you stop thinking about it, if you want."

 

She did her research on Talon. She knows why Widow will sit motionless in their drop ship for hours on end, even after they've landed back at base, staring into middle distance. Why she hasn't been caught by the needling that Sombra can typically rely on to size up most anyone. She knows why the former savior of the world is sitting next to her plotting little murders to fuel big wars. 

 

She stares at him. He doesn't quite meet her gaze, and so her eyes are fixed on the red lights that glow deep in his skull. He's not threatening her, she realizes. It's a genuine offer of help. 

 

She did her research on Talon, so she knew there would be things she wouldn't understand. 

 

"Thanks," she says carefully. "But I'm good. It sucks to know, but I need to know something. You know?"

 

He meets her eyes now and is silent for a moment, then shakes his head. "Whatever you say," he says. He turns back to her monitors. "This is enough to start with. You can take the rest of the day off."

 

"What? No, come on, I can finish this–"

 

"It's not a punishment, Sombra." She closes her mouth. He's smiling a little. "Go lie down. Watch whatever stupid shows you like to watch. I'll get someone to bring you dinner at sundown."

 

"Oh," she says. "Okay." She gets up from her desk and heads to the door. She looks back over her shoulder one more time. Reyes is staring at the pictures on the screens, his fingers steepled. 

 

She watches bad sitcoms until there's a knock on her door. Widow walks in and silently tosses a pizza on her kitchen table, then helps herself to a slice. Sombra grins and rushes over to her, and wolfs down her break fast. 

 

When they're done– her unapologetically greasy and bloated, Widow daintily blotting the corners of her mouth with a napkin– she wonders if she was supposed to let Reyes know when the food got here. She wonders if she was supposed to invite him. The Nieveses always said that the holidays meant nothing without people to celebrate them with. That food tastes best when it's shared. She wonders if Reyes can even eat. 

 

Widow's casting a judgmental eye at her muted TV, and the late 50's comedians hamming it up on screen. Sombra pointedly unmutes it. Widow rolls her eyes but doesn't leave, and puts her feet up on one of the empty chairs. 

 

Sombra doesn't remember again for a while after that.

**Author's Note:**

> Title from this meta: https://tacticalgrandma.tumblr.com/post/165883987175/dianevause-bruh-i-just-realised-something-this
> 
> I'm @tacticalgrandma on tumblr if you want to talk to me there.
> 
> Thank you so much for reading, and any comments/kudos will make me love you!


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